The End
by Iliveinnerdfighteria
Summary: Just a head cannon of a possible ending for Supernatural.


The air conditioning in the Impala had stopped working long ago. Sam had tried in vain to get it fixed when Dean had gone to hell. But it was discovered to be impossible in the ancient car. So there they were, riding down the highway with the windows down, music blaring over the sound of the wind. Sam's back very nearly stuck to the back of the seat with sweat.  
"Where are we going Dean?" He asked for the third time, not really expecting a straight answer but dying with curiosity anyway.  
"I told you. Cas called us up and said he needed a favor." Dean answered without looking away from the road.  
"What kind of favor?" Sam asked, pressing for information.  
"I dunno Sammy. Don't get your panties in a twist. We'll be there soon and then we'll know."  
Sam sighed and turned to watch out the window. They were on a stretch of road between Nevada and California. A little stretch that the boys had driven several times. Dean preferred to drive on roads that he had travelled with John. Roads he knew were relatively safe. He watched as the desert flew by in blurs of dust and weeds. Suddenly he flew hard against his seatbelt as Dean slammed on his brakes. A dark figure stood in the bright sun ahead of them. The Impala screeched to a stop just feet in front of the motionless Cas. His trench coat hung on his thin figure. Even after he fell, he refused to give it up. Sam and Dean thought it was something sentimental. Although in actuality it was probably something more about practicality and less about sentimentality.  
Dean leaned his head out of the window, "Cas! What the heck? Are you trying to get yourself killed?! You're human now you know!"  
Both brothers' eyes dropped to the shotgun he held loosely in his hands.  
Sam slowly opened the door and climbed from the car, "What's up Cas?" He asked, trying to keep his voice steady. Cas looked more ragged then the last time they had seen him. His frame a little thinner. His shoulders more stooped.  
Dean joined Sam in front of the car, "What happened Cas?" He began to approach him slowly but Cas brought the shotgun up between them, pointed directly at Dean's chest.  
"They caught up with me." Cas' voice was so quiet, Sam barely caught the words, "The other angels. They caught up with me. They... they tortured me Dean."  
His eyes took on a wild look.  
"Oh lord Cas." Dean's face lost all color. He looked at the ghost of his friend. His best friend. The one man who counted on him just as much as Sam. Maybe more. He had let him down.  
"Where were you, Dean?" Cas slowly shuffled forward. His eyes weren't human. "Everyday for months they tortured me. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Every. Day. And then one day it stopped."  
Neither brother breathed as Cas began circling them. Their arms raise in a surrender.  
"Do you know what they told me, Dean? Do you know why they stopped torturing me?" Cas stopped behind Dean, his mouth next to the other's ear, "'Make him suffer, Castiel.' They told me. 'His suffering for yours.'" Dean knew what was coming. He had to stop it.  
He whipped around, standing between the shotgun and Sam.  
"Cas please!"  
Neither of them spoke. Those two words. They were all Dean had to offer. He looked into the all too human eyes of Castiel. He'd overcome mind control for him once before. He had found his humanity hidden deep within the angel.  
But humanity was the problem now. Cas was too human. Too vulnerable. Too broken.  
It cut him off from his mind; his heart. He thought with his body. And his body wanted it to stop.  
For one second Dean saw the angel. And maybe that's what hurt him the most.  
Cas' words came out in a gruff whisper, "I'm so sorry, Dean." He reached around him, and in a split second the shot rang out. And it rang true.  
It happened in slow motion. Dean couldn't turn fast enough to see his brother standing one last time. Sam fell to his knees, one hand clutching his chest where the bullet had hit its mark.  
"Sammy!" Dean ran to his brother's side. A sick sense of déjà vu overcoming him. He held his brother up on his knees. Sam wasn't coherent enough to say anything. Already he was slipping away.  
"No! Sammy! You stay with me now! Sam!" But he was already gone. Dean gave up quickly, laying his brother back on the ground and turning back to his killer.  
He wasn't alone.  
Cas stood among the fallen angels.  
Dean knew none of them.  
One woman stepped up behind Cas putting a warm hand on his shoulder, "Well done, Castiel."  
He didn't smile at the praise.  
He didn't get the chance.  
A second shot rang out and Cas fell the ground instantly, motionless, the shotgun clattered down in front of him. The women watched on with cold eyes.  
"We told you we'd make the pain stop." She said quietly.  
Dean stood stunned. That man may have killed his brother but he was still his best friend. His death punched a hole in his heart.  
The two men he would have died protecting lay dead on the ground before him. It was almost ironic. A hysterical laugh bubbled up inside him. He choked it down and held his arms wide open gesturing at the woman.  
"Come on then." He smiled. Welcoming the shot he thought was inevitable.  
The woman just laughed cruelly, "Oh no, Dean Winchester. We're not going to kill you. Didn't you hear his orders? Castiel was to make you suffer. I think this is just about the best scenario we could get isn't it? Everything you've pledged your life to protecting dead at your feet? Killing you now would be a mercy."  
Dean's heart dropped into his shoes. She was serious. He felt bile rise in his throat but he swallowed it down. There was only one way he could play this.  
He smiled, slowly approaching. "Well done. You really have done your homework."  
The woman snarled at him, slowly retreating from him. She didn't like this man. He had nothing left to lose. She knew that. Desperate men are dangerous. She should get out of there as soon as she could.  
Dean applauded mockingly, "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. With you lot being fallen angels and all. Sadistic kind of runs in your blood. And we thought the demons were what we should be afraid of." He let out a laugh. It was cold, chilling the others all the way down to their bones.  
Just a few more feet.  
"I just have one question for you. Where do you think they are now? Without angels is there still a heaven? Or are they just ghosts. Because if they are I can bet your butt that they're gonna haunt you until you're gonna wish you could die. But I guess you can now can't you. Wanna test it out?"  
And with this he bent down and snatched up the fallen shotgun.  
Every gun pointed his way, "So you see, I'm not planning on leaving here alive. But this gun has at least two rounds in it. And I'm not going down alone. Who's feeling lucky?"  
He cocked the gun but before he could even take aim, three shots tore through his body. He smiled as everything faded to black.  
No one buried the three boys. The angels didn't care enough to bother. No one found their bodies. They were just buried with the sand. The only market for their graves was the old rusted up Impala. It sat like a sentinel watching over them, the last testament to the story of the Winchester boys and their angel. It didn't end quite the way anyone imagined. If you had asked Sam how you thought he would die, he would have told you since he was 7 years old he thought he would die on a hunt. Dean figured a plane crash. Cas wouldn't have answered but the boys would have told you he would have choked himself with his own tie.  
They died as Team Free Will.  
An angel without a prayer.  
A boy without a choice.  
And a man without a thought.


End file.
